


Music That's You

by Papillon87



Series: Melody and Light [2]
Category: ASTRO (Band), Day6 (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Mild Language, Original Character(s), Romance, Sexual Content, musicians au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-10-06 23:31:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17354729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Papillon87/pseuds/Papillon87
Summary: ‘I like it.’Out of nowhere, like a beautiful ghost, Dongmin materialises right next to him and Jinwoo stops, embarrassed.‘Goes to show how little you know about music.’He grins at Dongmin, secretly enjoying the faux shocked gasp the other makes.‘Shut up!’ Dongmin pokes his shoulder. ‘I play piano, I know enough about music.’‘Yeah, sure. Classical pieces and cheesy tunes from dramas. You wouldn’t last a month in a band.’‘Lucky I’m not in one, then.'





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story will make sense on its own but I suggest you read [ A Stranger on the Train](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15670494/chapters/36403239) to fully understand the characters.

 

................

 

He watches Dongmin through the open door to his office, stolen glances in between the chords that are nothing but pretence, his excuse to be here, to breathe the same air Dongmin is breathing. Sometimes Dongmin looks at him, a quick smile flashed in his direction when he swivels in his chair, phone glued to his ear, and Jinwoo smiles back - a friendly smile, a harmless smile which doesn’t threaten; the last thing he wants is for Dongmin to find out how he feels.

Dissatisfied, he plucks the strings; he has a melody in his head; no, not even in his head yet, it is in his heart, a melody that is all Dongmin but all that comes out is a clichéd sequence of G, Em, Am, D7. 

Time is running out and they need more songs for the upcoming concert in three months’ time. The old hits that their fans expect will be dutifully played, of course, that’s a given; he himself really likes some of them but new stuff is needed to keep the band alive and the pressure is getting to him.

Out of the corner of his eye he can see Dongmin is wrapping things up for the night, gathering the mess on his desk and trying to instil some order in it, sticking yellow post-it notes on top of his laptop, colourful reminders that his work here is not done yet, that he will be here tomorrow, coming to the studio after his day job as a junior accountant for a well known music label, and Jinwoo’s heart starts beating faster.

The guitar strings protest momentarily, a pained somersault as he stumbles in his rhythm, ducking his head to hide the heat radiating off his cheeks before Dongmin notices him watching.

Subconsciously he adds Dsus4 towards the end of the sequence, it makes a nicer transition; still, it’s a lame little melody; it will end in the bin, it’s not even original, he must have heard it somewhere, almost every pop song contains the same sequence, even if it's in a different key; it's the epithome of predictable.

‘I like it.’ 

Out of nowhere, like a beautiful ghost, Dongmin materialises right next to him and Jinwoo stops, embarrassed.

‘Goes to show how little you know about music.’

The rudeness is not there to hurt, it’s how they have been interacting since they met; Dongmin has a savage sense of humour and Jinwoo has slid easily into the routine of teasing him mercilessly. It helps him, an effective defence mechanism against getting too sappy and dopey-eyed in Dongmin’s presence. He can't be blushing every time he speaks to the manager of his own band; as a leader, Jinwoo is expected to be Dongmin’s first port of call, to be the one who irons out little disagreements and disputes; he can't let his responsibilities be clouded by his feelings.

He grins at Dongmin, secretly enjoying the faux shocked gasp the other makes.

‘Shut up!’ Dongmin pokes his shoulder. ‘I play piano, I know enough about music.’

‘Yeah, sure. Classical pieces and cheesy tunes from dramas. You wouldn’t last a month in a band.’

‘Lucky I’m not in one, then.’

Blinded by Dongmin’s smile, Jinwoo’s common sense takes a momentary leave of absence. ‘Do you want to grab dinner together?’

Shocked, he can see that for Dongmin, too, the question comes out of the blue. 

‘What?’

‘I… I mean, I was going to anyway, my fridge is empty and I’m starving, didn’t have any lunch at work so…’ Jinwoo trails off but notices a blush on Dongmin’s cheeks and a sense of warmth spreads inside his chest.

‘Dinner would be great.’ 

Jinwoo is packing his guitar with shaking hands, trying to act cool, ‘The usual place?’

‘Why not?’ Dongmin slings his bag over his shoulder and waits patiently until Jinwoo zips up the guitar case and stoves it carefully in the corner.

_Play it cool._

Outside, they are greeted by a torrential downpour.

For a reason he can’t quite fathom, Jinwoo suddenly feels as weightless as a feather.

’Run!’ He shouts at Dongmin and they both sprint across the street and barge through the door into Clara's, a small Italian restaurant, their favourite, laughing and shaking off the drops of rain that settled on their hair, like boisterous puppies.

The restaurant, tucked away a little amongst an unassuming row of shops, is a local oddity, a rare foreign eatery outside the district of Itawon where tourists or expats usually go when feeling homesick.

Clara’s is vastly popular amongst the local community, if a little overpriced, but Jinwoo would have never come up with the idea to visit if it wasn’t for Jae’s sudden hankering for pasta and suggesting, maybe a year ago, they should give it a try. Since then, they go every once in a while, budgets permitting, and the owner, Donna Clara, a proud Italian mamma who has lived in Seoul for thirty years, knows them by name by now and even slips the odd basket of bread or a starter for free if she thinks Jae or Dowoon, her favourites, look particularly undernourished.

Once inside, Dongmin runs his fingers through the wet strands of his hair and Jinwoo is feeling almost faint from the everwhelming beauty in front of him.

_You are the melody haunting me in my sleep_

……………

“Jinwoo?”

Dongmin’s cheeks are flushed, his hands nervously twirling the stem of his glass.

‘Yeah?’ Jinwoo’s head is buzzing a little, he is not sure how much time has passed, how much wine they have drunk with the pasta they are eating, but he doesn’t care. Picking at his penne, he is deliberately putting off the moment when they will have to go, when this evening will end. He eyes Dongmin, not sure what made the usually assured man so nervous all of a sudden, like a third grader caught cheating during a maths test.

Dongmin’s eyes hold his, ‘I think I like you.’

Stunned silence. 

Jinwoo splutters, the red wine shooting up his nose. He tries to cough, desperately, tries to suck some air into his lungs, tears stinging in his eyes, but he can’t; he can feel his airways blocked, despite his futile, wheezy attempts to breath. The feeling of mortification is overwhelming. The last thing he wants is to attract too much attention but it’s all in vain; he can see a waitress approaching, a look of concern on her maternal face.

Dongmin is already standing behind him though and, without warning, whacks him between the shoulder blades with the heel of his palm, full force. The impact stuns him for a split of a second but suddenly, he coughs up a piece of pasta and his lungs are filling with oxygen, the relief flooding his whole body. 

The waitress arrives as he gratefully gasps for air, feeling a little light-headed. He hears Dongmin’s calm voice explaining that no, his friend doesn’t have asthma, he just choked on his food, yes he is ok, and could we get the bill please.

Jinwoo is more than happy to escape from a room full of strangers watching the two of them as if they were a freak show.

Once outside, he slumps on one of the wooden benches on the deserted terrace. The rain has stopped by now but the garden furniture is still glistening with wetness under the light of a solitary streetlamp. The night air is cooler now. Dongmin sinks down next to him and for a while they say nothing. Jinwoo is not sure how to proceed; despite all that happened, Dongmin’s words from before hang in the air like a giant elephant floating above their heads. It takes several minutes until they finally look at each other.

‘Thank you for saving my life.’ Jinwoo clears his throat, his own voice sounding strange in the silence that stretches between them like a piece of elastic, taut, ready to snap.

‘It’s no big deal.’ Dongmin shrugs his shoulders. Jinwoo can almost feel his embarrassment.

‘It is a big deal! How did you know what to do?’

‘I’m a first aider. Volunteered to do a first aid course at work a year ago.’

‘Jesus, Dongmin, you’re way too perfect. Is there something you cannot do?’

There is a heartbeat of silence. ‘Apparently I cannot confess without trying to kill the object of my affection.’

It takes Jinwoo a moment to be able to look into Dongmin’s eyes.

The beautiful face in front of him is as red as beetroot. ‘I’m so sorry, I totally understand if you don’t… oh, this is so embarrassing,’ Dongmin covers his face with his hands. ‘Can we forget this happened? I blame the wine. Please, Jinwoo, please, don’t hate me now. I just thought… you sort of asked me out tonight, well, not really, but…’ The groan, muffled by his hands, sounds desperate and Jinwoo can't watch Dongmin’s misery any longer.

‘Hey.’

He leans closer and peels Dongmin’s hands off his face, ‘Look at me. Min. Please.’

Dongmin’s eyelashes are hiding what he wants to see. 

‘Dongmin.’ He needs to look into his friend’s eyes, to make sure he is not dreaming all this. ‘Look at me.’

The black eyes, when they finally meet his, have something infinitely vulnerable in them. Stripped to the bone. Jinwoo feels an urge to soothe, reassure, to rub Dongmin’s cold hands, to hug him so tight that the fear in his friend’s eyes leaves forever and never returns.

He opts for squeezing his fingers lightly, ‘I like you too.’

Dongmin makes a small, choking sound, Jinwoo can’t tell whether it’s closer to crying or laughing but maybe it’s not important, maybe it’s not the words that matter right now.

Instead of emptiness, the silence around them is now filled with meaning.

_In his head, he is his 14-year-old self in the playground again. He might be looking at Dongmin’s shaky smile instead of Myungjun’s beaming face but the feeling of lightness is the same._

_He is not alone anymore._

__

‘Shall I walk you home?’ There is a sudden glint of mischief in Dongmin’s eyes and, after a stunned moment of silence, Jinwoo starts chuckling.

‘That would be cool.’

They cross the road, much more slowly than before, and stop in front of the studio.

‘So,’ The blinding quality of Dongmin’s smile, now that it is trained solely on Jinwoo, is almost too much.

‘Thank you for walking me home,’ Jinwoo is giggling, a thin veneer of hilarity to hide his nerves.

The space between them is becoming less and less with every heartbeat, with every breath.

Dongmin’s cheeks are flushed and he tastes like the wine they both drank at dinner. That and something much more heady, much more intoxicating than any alcohol Jinwoo has ever tried.

The sound of approaching footsteps makes them break apart. A random passer-by hurries down the empty street, hardly paying them any attention, but the moment is gone and Jinwoo’s bravado has deserted him suddenly.

Dongmin must be feeling the same because he smiles shyly and squeezes Jinwoo’s fingers, ‘ I’ll see you tomorrow, ok?’

‘Ok.’

……………….

_The tune in my head that won’t stop playing_

The melody in his head is new. It’s Dongmin. Instead of heading for his small apartment above the studio, he stays downstairs, grabs Sunjin’s spare guitar left carelessly lying around; there is no time to unpack his own. The urgency is making his hands tremble; he needs to sit down, he needs to capture the tune that’s Dongmin.

The guitar rebels. The sounds are distorted, different from what he can hear in his head; impatiently, he drops the instrument on the tattered sofa and sits down at the old piano in the corner.

D D6 F♯ F♯7 G G/B Gm Gm6 Bm 

Bm/A Bm/A♮ Bm/G 

A A6 G F♯ Bm

It’s raw, it’s not perfect; he knows it will need work, a lot of tweaking, but the essence is there. He turns on the recording on his phone anyway, not quite sure why, it’s way too early but the feeling that this is it is making his stomach twist with excitement.

_I’m playing music that’s you_

 

…………………

 

‘Hey!’

Dowoon is already sitting at his drum kit as Jinwoo walks through the door to the studio on Friday night, mind still reeling from a exhausting day at work. He is a manager of a small independent book store. He loves his job, even when some days are tiring and long, with late deliveries and dwindling customer numbers tempted away by giant chains; but no matter how bad the day, seeing Dowoon’s enthusiastic face, Jinwoo can't help but smile.

He likes Dowoon, their latest addition to the band. At first there was an animosity; on his side only, he admits it freely now. He used to be the drummer before Dowoon joined them but things were not working well. It’s hard to rap and drum at the same time; the main rapper of the group needs to be in everyone’s face, exude ‘the vibe’; sitting at the back, hiding behind the drum kit, was not ideal.

__

_When Jinwoo and his bandmates moved to Seoul, the first thing they all agreed on was that they needed a new drummer._

__

_Couple of guys came to audition but none of them were right and, after a while, boys were getting jittery. It took Jinwoo a lot of effort to persuade them to relax, to wait. Chill, guys, we managed this way for quite a while, we can last for a bit longer._

__

_Then Dowoon came, entering the room with his sweet, eager face, greeting them with a surprisingly deep voice and Jinwoo, sitting opposite him, exchanged a sideways glance with Brian. The boy looked good. A face like this wouldn’t hurt in terms of attracting bigger following, especially female. Jae noticed their keen expressions and his raised left eyebrow was almost shouting at them, don’t get your hopes up, guys, just because he looks good._

__

_In the end it was a no-brainer. Dowoon was good. He was very good; Jinwoo could see the boy was better than him, more refined, more confident, coming up with interesting ideas even during the audition._

__

_They decided to say yes, to make him an offer straightaway._

__

_‘Really?’ Dowoon’s face lit up when Jinwoo sat down to talk to him. ‘You mean it? Thank you so much, it’s an honour, I really like your sound, this is so exciting.’_

__

_All members were listening to his incoherent words and looking at him benignly._

__

_Jinwoo half-expected himself to be jealous; when it happened he almost welcomed the tight, hot, stingy feeling in his guts, as if his ability to predict it made the situation any better._

__

_The drums used to be his domain, now they had a new owner and Jinwoo felt betrayed, a little bereft. Although the new arrangement made his rapping much easier, he felt empty, almost idiotic without any instrument. He needed something to do but wasn’t sure what._

__

_Suddenly he felt they, as a band, didn’t think things through._

_In the end they all sat down, talked and agreed Jinwoo would have a choice to either play acoustic guitar or keyboard, or just being the frontman, depending on each song._

_‘I feel bad now,’ Dowoon was visibly shrinking as the discussion continued._

_‘Don’t be,’ Jinwoo smiled a little forcefully, the sting of jealousy still there, hiding under the smooth surface of his friendly expression. ‘It was my decision, it will work out, you’ll see.’ He was convincing Dowoon, as much as himself._

_In the end it somehow did. He stuck with the guitar for most of the time, but for slower numbers he would join Wonpil on another keyboard and for some more dark, aggressive songs, he simply enjoyed the freedom of being able to run around on stage, rap and interact with the audience. The reviews were positive, praising Dowoon’s drumming skills and Jinwoo’s flexibility and musical talents that were ‘hidden from us so far but have now been revealed by the charismatic rapper.’_

_Now, two years later, he was settled and happy, Dowoon having become like his little brother._

 

Jinwoo returns the drummer’s smile and heads for the corner. His guitar is waiting at him patiently since the night before when he abandoned it in favour of his date with Dongmin. He opens the case and hurriedly strums the beginning of the chord sequence he recorded last night. It still sounds good, even played on a guitar, rather than the piano.

__

Sunjin barges in, the guitar case entering the room before him, like a Roman shield protecting a brave centurion, ‘Hey guys!’

__

Halfway through the room his foot gets caught in the cables criss-crossing the floor and he barely avoids a fall.

__

‘Oh for goodness’ sake, could you take care of your cable salad, Brian? I nearly broke my fucking neck!’

__

‘Luckily we have plenty of guitarists to go round – should you brake your neck for real. You couldn’t say the same for me though,’ deadpans Wonpil from behind the keyboard.

__

Brian just laughs at the exchange and moves his amp a little, kicking the offending cables out of the way. 

__

The practice goes smoothly. The first song is becoming much more polished, less work-in-progress, more presentable. The relief is palpable; at the moment, it’s their one and only new song for the upcoming concert they practiced together and although they know they will be more, it’s reassuring to hear something almost finished and ready for the audience.

__

Jae grabs Jinwoo after they have finished. ‘How did it go last night? We could sit down together after the practice, what do you think?’ 

__

Jae knows Jinwoo was planning to stay late the night before and try to come up with new material.

__

Jinwoo grins quietly to himself.

__

_You have no idea how well it went yesterday._

__

They stay behind after everyone else has gone. Brian doesn’t hang around; he is working on a song that will be produced by him only, music and lyrics, and he likes working alone. Both Jae and Jinwoo don’t mind. They know if there is collaboration, Brian will be back, eager to participate. The group dynamics when it comes to producing runs smoothly by now, they are used to each other’s quirks and habits, and respect them.

__

Jae slowly swivels round on a chair, strumming the guitar lazily, ‘Have you got anything new?’

__

It’s a rhetorical question. Given they met two days ago Jae probably knows it’s unlikely Jinwoo has come up with something ground breaking. All members know their leader is a deadliner; he needs a pressure of a performance approaching to be at his most productive. So far they are tinkering with two more songs, plus there is the one Brian is working on, but they need more new material. Jae is usually the same as Jinwoo, relaxed to the point of driving the rest of the group crazy, but surprisingly, even he is getting nervous. Jinwoo doesn’t blame him, three months’ time seems like a long time but it’s not, not when they need to come up with quite a lot of new content.

__

__

‘Maybe I have something new,’ the grin he gives his friend is meaningful and Jae stops spinning so abruptly he nearly falls off his chair.

__

’Really?’ There is a cautious hope in his voice.

__

‘Maybe,’ the shrug that follows Jinwoo’s grin is less assured. He crosses the room and sits at the piano. 

__

‘Oh, not a guitar this time.’ Jae cocks his head.

__

‘No,’ Jinwoo shrugs almost apologetically. ‘For this one I was thinking more keyboards rather than guitars. Or piano. I think it will sound better. Some arpeggios maybe. I was thinking a ballad.’

__

Jae’s eyes narrow a little, ‘Are you getting soft, my friend?’

__

Jinwoo ignores him and his fingers start running across the ivories, carefree, gently stroking the keys; the songs rises and falls, a little melancholic, almost sad but not quite; there is hope in it as well, and longing.

__

He finishes and awaits a friendly retort from Jae, or a sarcastic remark, something, anything - but nothing comes.

__

After a long pause Jae exhales, as if he was holding his breath until now, “Wow. I rather like this one.’

__

His eyes meet Jinwoo’s, ‘If I didn’t know you better, I would say you were in love.’

__

……………..

__

‘The lighting is not going to work, Jinwoo, not the way it is now,’ Patrick’s brow is furrowed. ‘I need a little bit more time. They have changed things around since we were here last month. Not sure why they haven’t mentioned it to me.’

__

The club is dimly lit, half-empty still, only couple of regulars are giving them a thumbs-up on arrival.

__

On the little stage, Patrick is biting his bottom lip, measuring the space with his eyes, scratching his neck.

__

Patrick is their sound and lighting man, an expat from Los Angeles that Jae stumbled upon when they moved to Seoul. An IT man by day and a music enthusiast by night, he latched onto Jae when they met through the expat community and, both of them coming from LA, they almost felt like neighbours and clicked instantly.

__

Patrick knows all there is about sound mixing and stage lights, having been part of the tech crew for his university theatre group. He does't play any instrument but loves being part of the show; he even helped with some backing vocals when the group recorded some of their songs; a former choir boy when younger, he has a pleasant baritone.

__

‘We don’t have much time,’ Jinwoo sounds panicked and Brian, following him with his amp, swallows a little uneasily as he catches the end of the conversation.

__

Dongmin, from across the room, spots Jinwoo’s frown and Patrick’s worried expression and joins them.

__

‘You ok, Patrick?’

__

‘I’m fine but I need to set up the lighting again from scratch.’

__

‘How much extra time?’ Dongmin’s words might be clipped but his voice is calm and the arm he slips around Jinwoo’s shoulder feels reassuring.

__

‘Maybe half an hour?’

__

Squeezing Jinwoo’s shoulder and smiling at him gently, he leaves them in search of someone in charge.

__

Only after a second Jinwoo becomes aware of the stares.

__

Wonpil eyes him up and down with a smirk, ‘Is there something we should know, Jinjin?’

__

‘Maybe,’ Jinwoo arches his eyebrows meaningfully and turns to leave.

 

………………….

 

After the performance they go out to eat, a quick affair before everyone heads home.

The little street vendor they choose is busy. Jinwoo sits next to Dongmin, a plate of kimbap to share in front of them, but he keeps his hands to himself, unsure what to do. He can see Wonpil eyeing them both with a half-smile lingering on his lips.

Dongmin next to him is fidgeting, fingers nervously clutching his beer glass.

In the end, he takes a deep breath and wraps his arm around Dongmin who ducks his head a little, as if afraid of what’s coming.

‘Before you all start making a big deal out of it, we are together.’

‘Wow,’ Wonpil breathes out. ‘I was right. Dowoon, you owe me 20,000 won.’

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit to [Existential_forest](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Existential_forest/pseuds/Existential_forest) for the melody that's Dongmin :-) and credit to her little brother for suggesting the Dsus4 chord to my lame little sequence, 'to make it more interesting.'


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **chapter warning** : sexual content
> 
> Those who read my other works know that my characters are adults and have sex; however, I tend to imply, rather than describe. This time, although no smut, the content is more suggestive, hence the changed rating from T to M.
> 
> ..................

 

‘Can I help you with something?’ Leaning against the fridge, Jinwoo grips his wine glass a little tighter and takes a large gulp, despite it being barely past lunchtime. His boyfriend of two months is moving effortlessly around the kitchen, utterly at ease, occasionally smiling at Jinwoo, while his hands are busy unwrapping and chopping the vegetables.

They met earlier and went shopping, Dongmin chatting happily and scouring the aisles with an expert eye for the ingredients he needed for their lunch together, Jinwoo happy to be an observer; his cooking skills not extending much past instant ramen.

He doesn’t quite know why he feels nervous but he does. Maybe it’s because Dongmin invited him to his place for the first time; maybe it’s the way he said, blushing a little, my flatmates are out for the weekend, come, I will cook for you.

The uncertainty of what might be happening tugs at Jinwoo’s insides. In the two months they’ve been together, they kissed, that’s all. Even up to this day Dongmin seems hesitant, a little reluctant when it comes to the physical aspect of their relationship, and Jinwoo is more than happy to let him to determine the pace. There is plenty of time for everything; if Jinwoo has learnt anything from his past it’s that trying to speed things up too much usually doesn’t end well.

At first he somehow assumed he was Dongmin’s first but Dongmin let it slip he had had girlfriends before, even if he didn’t elaborate much beyond that. You are my first boyfriend though, he admitted and Jinwoo understood and told himself not to push. He himself was lucky enough to have Myungjun as his best friend by his side when he was struggling with his own identity and won the inner battle before he started any relationship. If Dongmin is facing those questions right now, he decided, he would be there, patient and not demanding anything until Dongmin was ready.

And so the weeks pass by. Jinwoo can still picture every kiss they have exchanged, those precious moments lining their first two months like diamonds scattered in the sand, rare finds on their journey together.

He knows the journey has just begun; there will be other treasures to find along the road and he smiles at Dongmin, busy next to him in the tiny kitchen corner of the open-plane living space, the room drenched in light and the cooking smells permeating the space; it’s a beautiful day outside, not a cloud in sight, and something from the lightness outside seeps into Jinwoo’s soul and he relaxes.

To be like this, to be together, is enough.

Dongmin scoops the chopped spring onions in a bowl and hands him a knife and packet of beef they bought.

’Can you wash the meat?’

Jinwoo takes both the sirloin and the knife from Dongmin’s hand and feels something akin to an electric shock as their fingers touch. The lightness and acceptance from just a moment ago disappear. He remembers the blush on Dongmin’s cheeks when he invited Jinwoo over, the mention of them being alone.

_Focus, you idiot._

With a considerable effort, he turns his attention to the task ahead. Maybe it’s purely his imagination, maybe Dongmin really only wants to cook for him. His boyfriend’s behaviour since they met this morning didn’t suggest he wanted to move to the next stage in their relationship, there was no indication Dongmin was planning anything bar the lunch he wanted to make; maybe he was reading too much into it, maybe he should take a deep breath, maybe…

‘Shit!’ he gasps as the knife slices through the skin of his middle finger.

He stares at the cut. It’s not too deep but it’s not a scratch either. There is a moment of stillness, everything suspended mid-air, no pain, no movement, then the sharp stinging and redness bring him back down to earth.

He feels the blood draining from his brain. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Dongmin dropping everything and taking his hand swiftly, ‘Let me see.’

Dongmin tears of a piece of kitchen towel and presses it against the cut. ‘It’s not too bad.’ The white paper stains red within seconds.

Dongmin’s eyes are on him, sharp, focused, ‘Jinjin?’

The voice feels funny, as if underwater. ‘Don’t faint on me, ok? Sit down.’

Dongmin pushes him towards the floor and he slides down obediently, his back against the wall.

‘Head down, between your knees.’

‘How are you feeling?’ Dongmin is wrapping a new layer of tissue around his finger, keeping his hand raised. It looks a little ridiculous and despite everything Jinwoo smiles, “Better. Did they teach you this at the first aid course?’ he points at his own raised arm.

‘No. Yes. I don’t know?’ Dongmin frowns a little. ‘I don’t remember but it’s common sense, isn’t it? Elevate, it will bleed less.’

‘Hold on to it, I will get something to bandage it properly.’ He gets up and disappears into his bedroom, Jinwoo staring at the closed door, clutching his finger wrapped in tissues tainted red.

_God, what kind of idiot am I?_

Dongmin reappears with a packet of bandages and crouches down hurriedly, ‘Come, sit on the sofa. Slowly.’ He helps him up.

Once seated, Jinwoo watches him work, winding the strip of gauze around his hand with practised moves, as if it was something he did every day.

When he’s finished, he eyes Dongmin’s handiwork with respect, ‘Wow.’

‘My mum is a nurse, she taught me,’ Dongmin shrugs a little embarrassed. ‘I used to be really clumsy but had no fear – a really dangerous combination. I was forever falling over, had cuts and bruises everywhere. I have so many scars even now.’ He is not letting go of Jinwoo’s fingers, despite having finished with the bandage and Jinwoo notices his hands are starting to shake a little.

A pause. 

‘Do you want to see?’

‘What?’

Jinwoo is not quite sure he understood but Dongmin’s eyes leave him in no doubt about what he meant.

‘Do you want to see?’ Slowly, Dongmin pulls his trademark white t-shirt over his head and Jinwoo stares, mesmerised. Dongmin’s face, albeit achingly beautiful, is sometimes prone to skin problems, like that of any other twenty-something year old boy, but the bare skin of his chest is flawless. Even in the harsh mid-day sun streaming in through the floor-to-ceiling windows, Dongmin’s body looks ethereal, without any blemishes – until Dongmin takes Jinwoo’s hand and presses it against his left side where he suddenly sees a scar, a line of raised tissue, like an angry tight-lipped mouth slashing across the silky skin.

‘I fell off a tree in my grandma’s garden. Got sort of impaled on one branch while falling.’

The words, calm and measured, are in stark contrast with how scared Dongmin looks. 

Jinwoo’s fingers trace the scar while trying to calm down his racing heartbeat, the blood pulsing so wildly he can hear the thumps in his ears.

’I have other ones,’ Dongmin lets go of Jinwoo’s hand and starts unbuckling his belt, not leaving Jinwoo’s eyes for a second. When he pulls down the zipper on his jeans, the blood drains again from Jinwoo’s brain, for the second time this afternoon.

He tries to hold Dongmin’s hands. ‘Min. Wait. I… If you do this, I will want more.’

‘I want more too.’ Ignoring the hands that are trying to stem whatever he is doing, Dongmin climbs into Jinwoo’s lap, straddling his hips. He is shaking so hard, his teeth are almost chattering. Jinwoo wants to stop him, to tell him he doesn’t need to do this, that all of this can wait, but the weight of Dongmin’s body pressing into his lap makes his mind go blank.

_You are my melody._

With his eyes closed, he can feel Dongmin’s lips on his neck, the shuddery breaths hot against Jinwoo’s skin, ‘Tell me what you like. Tell me what you want.’

Jinwoo feels like fainting. His fingers slide down Dongmin’s sides, dig into his hips, ‘I want you inside me. Oh god, Min, I want you so much.’

Silence, then Dongmin’s whisper, halting, unsure. ‘You need to help me, ok? I know what to do, sort of… But I have never done this before.’

‘Wait. What?’ Jinwoo pulls back a little, his head spinning suddenly. ‘You never had sex?’

‘No, not that. But I’ve never had sex with a man.’

Jinwoo takes a deep breath and allows his eyes to wander while he is trying to calm himself. Both of their wine glasses are still on the kitchen counter, forgotten witnesses to the evening unfolding in a very different direction he envisaged. He notices that while his is still almost full, the burgundy liquid reflecting the sunlight, Dongmin’s is already empty. Is this the reason for his sudden boldness?

Jinwoo doesn’t want to take an advantage of his boyfriend, irresistible as he is right now, half-naked, his bare skin there for him to touch just inches away, not when it might be the alcohol talking, not when Dongmin might regret his decisions the next morning.

He grips Dongmin’s wrists and holds them still. ‘Min, maybe we should take things slowly. To make sure that this is what you really want right now.’

The hurt in Dongmin’s eyes breaks his heart. ‘But this is what I want.’

Sharply, Dongmin pulls away from Jinwoo’s lap and sinks onto the sofa dejectedly, as far away from Jinwoo as possible.

‘I’m tired, Jinwoo, you know that? I'm tired of dating suitable girls to please my family! I'm tired of picturing random boys while I sleep with them so I can get it up! And I'm tired of persuading myself that if I try harder I will not feel completely disgusted with myself for doing that! I just want to be me for once!’

Dongmin buries his face in his hands and starts sobbing.

Jinwoo freezes on the spot. He expected many things from this date, but not this. 

‘I’m so sorry,’ he whispers.

The inner battle has to be fought and won at some point, he knows that from his own experience. He knows that for Dongmin it’s happening right now but the knowledge has not prepared him for this. Uncertainty and doubts, yes, hesitation, for sure, but not the desperation, the self-hatred, the darkness under his boyfriend’s collected, calm and exquisite exterior. Somehow he foolishly assumed that the ethereal beauty Dongmin possessed exempted him from the demons he himself had had to face in the past, like a protective barrier against the darkness, a shield against the night from within.

How naïve he was.

‘Come here,’ he gently gathers Dongmin in his arms like a baby, although the other is much taller than him. His hair smells like green tea and Jinwoo inhales the warm scent.

He kisses the top of Dongmin’s head, ‘Min, I didn’t want to reject you. I simply didn’t want you to do something you were not ready for, something you would regret later.’

There is a hint of steel in Dongmin’s beautiful, innocent face as he looks up. ‘I regret everything I’ve done so far in my life but nothing I did today. And I’m done with pretending.’

He looks into Jinwoo’s eyes and the message Jinwoo reads in them makes him shudder with anticipation.

‘I want you. Is that so bad?’

………………….

The sex isn’t off to a great start at first because Dongmin is too nervous; too scared he might be hurting Jinwoo, constantly doubting himself, constantly asking if Jinwoo will be alright. Jinwoo doesn’t mind; with anybody else he would be rolling his eyes by now and huffing at them to get on with it, but not with Dongmin. With him, he only feels aching tenderness and the need to protect.

‘I can’t,’ Dongmin eventually sinks into the pillows, panting, ‘It feels different from… when I was with a girl. It feels like I will rip you in half.’

‘No, you won’t, I made sure of that,’ chuckles Jinwoo but stops short when he sees Dongmin’s face full of misery.

‘Min,’ he scoots closer, curling up into Dongmin’s side. ‘We don’t need to do this right now, there is no rush, you know that?’ He gently runs his fingers up and down Dongmin’s chest.

‘And what will change if we wait? I will probably be even more nervous, that’s all. I’m so useless. Do you… Dou you think it’s because I kept sleeping with girls?’

Dongmin closes his eyes and Jinwoo sees a single tear slipping from under his eyelashes.

‘Min,’ he squeezes his fingers gently. “ Let’s try something else. You’ll be fine, I promise. And I will be fine too, most definitely.’ He allows himself a tiny smile.

Dongmin’s look is doubtful but Jinwoo leans over him and lightly kisses his lips. ‘Just don’t think, ok? You don’t need to do anything. Lay back and close your eyes.’

Obediently, his boyfriend shuts his eyes and Jinwoo returns for another kiss, softly at first, then deeper, hungrier, more desperate. When Dongmin sighs into their kiss and digs his fingernails into Jinwoo’s back, he knows it’s time.

He pulls back and straddles Dongmin’s hips. 

Suddenly, Dongmin’s eyes are on him, darkening with comprehension, his breath coming in gasps, but they are not gasps of fear anymore, there is pleasure and anticipation slowly transforming his face now, and Jinwoo knows Dongmin understood. He can't help but feel a tiny shot of satisfaction that has nothing to do with how turned on he is.

‘You’re going to be fine, Min. Ok?’

This time, Dongmin returns his smile. ‘Ok.’

_If I stop you might disappear_

_I keep playing, da capo al fine_

_Let there be no end please_

…………………….

After they collapse in a sweaty heap, Dongmin buries his head in Jinwoo’s neck, laughing and crying at the same time, saying thank you, thank you, thank you for the thousandth time and Jinwoo gently cradles his shoulders and cries with him.‘Sorry I was so awful,’ Dongmin’s whisper against his chest is so quiet, Jinwoo can barely hear it.

He lifts up Dongmin’s chin, trying to look into his eyes. Dongmin averts his gaze.

‘Look at me, Min. You were not awful.’ Jinwoo wipes away the last of Dongmin’s tears. ‘In a way it was your first time; you were just nervous at the beginning, that’s all.’

‘I wanted to make it good for you.’ Dongmin looks heartbreakingly young without his pristine shirts and polished shoes, the way Jinwoo sees him almost every night, coming straight from the office and rushing through the door of their little studio, his face breaking into a smile when their eyes meet. There is none of that now, just bare skin and sweaty, messed-up hair, but the smile is the same and Jinwoo’s heart is so full it aches. He envelops Dongmin in his arms.

‘You made it perfect, Min. You made it perfect.’

_Your rhythm is in my veins_

_The crescendo of your breath in the night_

…………………..

The bright midday sun has given way to long afternoon shadows. Dongmin is asleep, his long legs tangled in the white sheets, his face on the pillow next to Jinwoo serene, calm. Jinwoo watches him and feels at peace, thankful for his life, thankful for Dongmin. He dreams, picturing his life with Dongmin in it.

_The staccato of your laugh in the sunshine_

_Lazy rubato between the sheets in the morning_

On impulse, heart bursting with happiness, he grabs his phone and sends a text to Myungjun.

_I am so happy!!!_

The urge to share is overwhelming. I single message suddenly doesn’t seem enough and he quickly snaps a picture and sends it to Myungjun.

_I think I love him!_

………………………..

The drama on the screen is nearing the end; the main heroine is gazing into the eyes of her prince charming, the strings are swelling and the trees above their heads are in bloom; normally, Jinwoo would well up a little at this point but the distraction resting on his lap is making it rather difficult to focus.

Dongmin is stretched on the sofa, his head on Jinwoo’s knees, dozing off. His workload for the last couple of months has been unforgiving and this is the first week when he can breathe a little more easily. 

Jinwoo takes in the bags under Dongmin’s eyes, the pallor of his skin, and gently pulls a blanket over his shoulders. He knows Dongmin will end up staying; it’s too late, they are both tired – it has happened before. The frequency with which Dongmin doesn’t make it back to the flat he shares with two of his friends from uni has been increasing in the last month and Jinwoo’s heart skips a beat every time he sees Dongmin’s eyes falling shut when they both watch some cheesy drama or listen to music.

The first time Dongmin fell asleep on his sofa, the morning after was awkward. Although he did his best to hide his apprehension, Jinwoo knew Dongmin was worried. Worried that he would be late for work, worried how he was going to look in the clothes from the day before – Jinwoo could read his face and his heart went out for him. In the end the left in one of the few button-down shirts Jinwoo possessed, the sleeves being rather on the short side but, as Dongmin put it, ‘better that than facing questions about who was the lucky girl.’

The next day after work, Jinwoo stopped in a nearby shopping mall. The designer bag he brought home that night waited in his bedroom until Dongmin’s next visit.

…………………………

‘I have something for you.’

Dongmin took the bag, his expression a little unsure. He peered inside and took out two shirts, still wrapped in cellophane, one a brilliant white, the other the palest icy blue.

‘Jinjin…’ Dongmin’s ears were as red as he imagined his own ones must be. ‘Thank you.’

‘I bought them so that when you stay over you don’t need to go to work the next day in a crumpled shirt - or borrow one of my fashion disasters.’

Dongmin’s arms around him proved the idea wasn’t a complete calamity. Jinwoo exhaled.

’There… there is something else.’ Suddenly he wasn’t so sure about the other thing in the bag. Was there a way of turning back time? What if this was a bad idea? Was it too early? What if it would scare Dongmin off?

Oh god oh god oh god.

But Dongmin was already delving into the bag and pulling out a key.

Jinwoo stood frozen, holding his breath, trying not to panic. Will he come across as too needy, too pushy – or plain desperate?

But Dongmin’s eyes creased in a smile so sweet, so shy, he knew he didn’t need to worry at all.

Relief flooded his system as he smiled back. ‘I want you to be able to come whenever you want and stay as long as you want.’

‘I love you, Jinjin.’ 

Jinwoo pretends he hasn’t noticed the moisture that’s welling up in Dongmin’s eyes, ready to spill.

’I love you too.’

The big, significant moments in life don’t always come with trumpets and a big fanfare. Sometimes they sneak in on their tiptoes, lightly, without a warning.

Up until now, Jinwoo could count his significant moments on one hand.

One. 

The first memory he can remember, his mother’s face on a beach, tender; her sing-song voice, her fingers tickling his sides, the sun warming their faces, his father’s laugh in the background. Haven.

Two. 

The sound of their apartment door being open, his father coming in, supporting Mum who looks as if she had cried all the tears in the world. His 8-year old self peeking from behind the bedroom door and realising that his baby brother whom he was supposed to meet for the first time today will not be coming home from the hospital. Loss.

Three. 

‘I will be your brother.’ Myungjun’s young voice, his arms around Jinwoo’s bony shoulders. ‘You will always have me.’ Belonging.

Four. 

Standing alone in the school playground, watching his friend Chanwoo scoring a goal and thinking ‘I’m in love.’ The feeling of not being able to tell anyone crushing his insides - because Chanwoo is a boy. Loneliness.

Five. 

Myungjun’s voice again, in the dark, empty playground. ‘You like boys? That’s cool, I thought I was the only one.’ His face friendly, without judgement, his chest into which Jinwoo weeps with gratitude. Relief.

Today, he needs the fingers of his left hand because the number of his significant moments has risen to six. 

The little silver key nesting in Dongmin’s palm, his fingers closing around it, their eyes holding onto each other. 

Love.

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

Jinwoo puts down his phone and sighs heavily. ‘Myungjun. He needs my help. Things with Bin went really wrong. I’m going to Busan on Friday. Not that I’m going to be able to help much but I don’t want him to be on his own right now.’

Rational words, smooth on the surface, hide the cold twist of fear in his stomach that doesn’t want to leave. Myungjun is hurting. His best friend needs him.

Jinwoo can't picture his life without Myungjun, the eternal sunshine, his best friend, his confidant.

……………….

_It was Myungjun, a constant blinding smile on his face, who watched Jinwoo battling with himself, the doubt, fear and disgust his daily demons._

_It was Myungjun who captured it in words first, without a hint of shock or judgment, ‘You like boys, don’t you? How cool. I though I was the only one. But I like girls too. What about you?’_

_That night, sitting on the swings in a deserted playground, the summer air still hot and humid around them despite the darkness, Jinwoo looked at his best friend’s eager, enthusiastic face and nearly wept with relief._

_‘No,’ he shook his head a little, ‘not girls.’_

_‘Cool, that means we will not argue because we like the same girl. But let me know if you like someone so I don’t make a move on him. When we’re older I mean.’_

_The idea of being bold enough to confess to a boy seemed preposterous enough at that moment but the sight of Myungjun’s smiling eyes brought such relief to Jinwoo’s ravaged heart that the tears came almost instantly._

_Myungjun didn’t say a word, merely jumped off the swing, came closer and wrapped his arms around Jinwoo, letting the tears soak his t-shirt while the balmy night air around them suddenly smelled like hope._

 

……………………

 

‘Come with me tomorrow.’ Jinwoo is threading his fingers through Dongmin’s hair, massaging his scalp gently.

‘Where?’ The dark head on his lap doesn’t move. Dongmin is half-asleep already, legs stretched on the sofa, his face relaxed, almost child-like, cheek squished against the fabric of Jinwoo’s jeans.

‘Come with me to Busan tomorrow.’

‘Oh.’ Yawning, Dongmin stretches and blinks in confusion, ‘I don’t know, Jinjin. Myungjun barely knows me; he might feel uncomfortable.’

His fingers trace the fullness of Dongmin’s lips. ‘I know this will sound too sappy… but whenever I’m stressed of angry, you… you make me feel calmer. You make me feel better, just by being you.’

Dongmin’s eyes are intense, the warmth of his breath coming quicker with every touch of Jinwoo’s fingers.

_Your rhythm is in my veins._

‘Please, come with me. I know you will make Myungjun feel better too. You are that kind of a person.’

He leans closer, lips brushing Dongmin’s cheekbone, ‘But mostly, I would miss you too much. Come with me.’

 

……………………

 

In Myungjun’s apartment, the silence has finally settled in.

Dongmin gently cradles Jinwoo’s shoulders as they doze off on Myungjun’s sofa in the living room. Myungjun has exhausted all his tears and is now hopefully asleep.

‘Would you ever lie to me?’ Jinwoo looks up, tracing the outlines of Dongmin’s face thoughtfully. ‘I don’t mean the small stuff, like why you forgot to ring me when you promised. I mean the important things.’

‘I don’t know.’ Dongmin’s arms are around Jinwoo but his boyfriend is not looking at him. His eyes are trained on the ceiling and Jinwoo knows Dongmin is thinking about the question, taking it seriously. He is not offended by the fact that Dongmin hasn’t denied it straightaway. He prefers the truth, however uncomfortable, however blunt - he has learnt from Myungjun’s mistakes.

‘I really don’t know,’ Dongmin furrows his eyebrows, gripping his shoulder a little tighter. ‘I can't even imagine it now but I have no idea what will happen to us, I don’t know, ten years later. I guess we won’t find out until we get there.’

_He wants to be with me in ten years’ time._

‘But I hope everything stays like it is now because I would never lie to you now.’

 

………………….

 

‘Should we invite Myungjun to come here for Christmas?’ 

He is plucking the strings and watches Dongmin cook. Random little melodies are filling the room, some cheesy, some funny, some melancholic. He is carefully avoiding the one and only he wants to surprise Dongmin with at the concert. His heart is bursting with the need to share, he wants to play the song so badly it almost hurts – but painful as it is, he manages to restrain himself.

_My fingers are bleeding but I’m still playing_

_I’m playing music that’s you_

‘What do you think? A little change of scenery would do him good. Would you mind?’ he eyes his boyfriend a little uncertainly. He loves Dongmin but Myungjun is his best friend; he doesn’t want him to be alone at the time of the year when all couples around are planning romantic dates. 

Dongmin turns around from the chopping board where he’s been attacking the vegetables with a precision and speed of a TV chef, ‘No, I don’t mind.’

‘You don’t?’

His smiles softly at Jinwoo, ‘We can go out anytime we want. Christmas is just a day, there are 364 others in a year.’

‘I love you, babe.’

Dongmin’s eyes crease in a smile, ‘I love you too.’

He quickly sends a message to Myungjun, not really expecting to hear from him until maybe late in the evening. His best friend is notoriously sloppy when it comes to answering but this time the reply comes back within seconds.

_Come to Busan instead._

He stares at the phone in surprise, before typing the answer.

_Any particular reason?_

_u & Dongmin r invited to a party ___

____

_What kind of party?_

____

_u will see I have news!_

____

He turns to Dongmin, smiling cheekily, ‘A possible change of plan. What would you say to Christmas in Busan?’

____

 

……………….

____

 

Marine City is teeming with life. People wrapped up in warm coats, their breath coming in puffy clouds, carry bags with presents, couples walking together, enjoying the brightly lit streets.

____

Jinwoo is watching Dongmin who walks completely mesmerised, looking at the extravagant displays in shop windows and beaming back at Jinwoo every time their eyes meet.

____

‘What? Is it your first Christmas or something?’ Jinwoo can’t help but chuckle at the sight of Dongmin’s breathless enthusiasm. His boyfriend looks beautiful, as if he just stepped out of one of those ethereally looking displays, not quite human with his rosy cheeks, angelic face and smile that, as Jinwoo has noticed, turns heads. 

____

‘No. I just forgot how great can Christmas be in the right company,’ Dongmin’s fingers briefly stroke his, a fleeting moment that nevertheless leaves Jinwoo short of breath. 

____

They both stop, seemingly to admire one of the displays.

____

‘I’m so happy,’ Dongmin’s eyes turn to Jinwoo’s face. ‘I love Christmas because everything looks pretty and for the first time in my life I have somebody to share it with, Jinwoo. I can talk about how I love the colour of those roses,’ he points at an elaborate flower arrangement in the shop window. ‘You know what I mean, right? I don’t need to pretend I love watching sports news with you. I can be me. You have any idea how great that feels?’

____

‘All because of you,’ Dongmin suddenly moves closer, his voice deeper, his breath hot on Jinwoo’s ear. ‘Do you know what I want to do right now?’

____

‘What?’ Jinwoo sighs a little breathlessly; Dongmin’s tone is far from innocent and Jinwoo’s knees go weak.

____

On the outside, Dongmin has not changed much since that first sun-lit afternoon they were together. He still wears perfectly pressed shirts to work, smiles sweetly and is impeccably polite towards anyone who approaches him, but Jinwoo knows a different Dongmin now, a happier Dongmin, more daring, more outrageous, Dongmin who can laugh so hard his eyes start streaming, Dongmin who likes to talk dirty when they are alone, who is not afraid to try new things behind the closed door of their bedroom, ‘as long as it’s with you Jinjin, I'm not afraid.’

____

Right now, Jinwoo feels Dongmin’s breath on his neck and, for a brief moment, forgets about the crowds surrounding them.

____

‘What do you want to do to me?’ he whispers in a low voice, the thrill of maybe being overheard making the whole situation even more of a turn-on than usual.

____

Dongmin’s voice hitches a little; as if he has just realised Jinwoo was calling him out on his own words and was suddenly unsure how to proceed. His breath tickles Jinwoo’s ear.

__‘I want… ‘ he whispers and Jinwoo tenses in anticipation. His brain tell him this is a really stupid idea, that having a dirty conversation in a middle of the pavement during evening rush hour is a bad plan but he can't resist the pull of excitement in the pit of his belly._ _

__The impact in the next second almost sends him flying to the ground._ _

‘Oh my god, I’m so sorry! Are you ok?’ A harassed-looking man in his mid-thirties, a leather briefcase in one hand and an expensive looking designer shopping bag in the other, screeches to a halt, looking out of breath and clearly mortified.

____

For a brief moment Jinwoo feels stunned, the crash having knocked the breath out of him, but he composes himself and smiles at the embarrassed stranger.

____

‘I’m fine, don’t worry, it was nothing,’ he pats the man on the shoulder and he starts jogging again, no doubt running late for a date with his wife or a girlfriend.

____

Left alone, him and Dongmin look at each other and dissolve in laughter, the heat of the moment gone.

____

‘Ok, maybe we leave _that_ conversation for later, ok?’ Dongmin’s ears are glowing red.

____

Jinwoo fakes a disappointed sigh, ‘What a shame.’

____

’I’ll make it up to you later,’ Dongmin nudges him gently in the ribs, grinning. ‘Come on, let’s go eat something before we start drinking tonight.’

____

They find a street vendor and stand outside under one of the heaters. Trying not to attract too much attention, Jinwoo sneakily feeds Dongmin morsels of food with his hands and Dongmin giggles every time he manages to lick Jinwoo’s fingers without anyone noticing.

____

 

……………..

 

____

The building which houses MoonRock Dance Studio is easy to find and, once inside, they follow the signs decorated with tinsel and glitter. 

____

As they walk down the corridor, the thumping of a bass-heavy song leaves them in no doubt they are heading in the right direction. 

____

‘Are you curious? About Bin, I mean,’ Dongmin winks at him as they stand in front of a glass door with the studio’s blue sign on it, now sprayed over with silver paint.

____

Before Jinwoo has a chance to ponder, the door flies open and a stunning girl runs out, laughing, and collides with Dongmin.

____

‘I’m so sorry,’ she gasps softly and Jinwoo is not sure whether it’s the physical impact or the assault of Dongmin’s beauty on her senses that make her blush furiously.

____

_Looks like we do nothing but collide with strangers today._

____

Smiling politely, Dongmin steadies her and Jinwoo supresses a sigh. Hopefully she won’t turn into another besotted girl who might follow his boyfriend around at the party, looking at him with her big, longing eyes. 

____

Dongmin, as always blissfully unaware of the impact he has on fellow human beings, asks her in his usual sweet manner if she is ok and she shakes her head, all reassuring smiles, no, it was nothing, I’m fine, and in that precise moment a tall young man appears, clearly her boyfriend, assesses the situation briefly and extends a protective arm towards her. She curls sweetly into his side, her smile suddenly different, more mature, Dongmin instantly forgotten.

____

Jinwoo relaxes, relieved that, for once, he totally misjudged the situation and bows in greeting.

____

Introductions are made and when it transpires that the girl is Mina, one of the dance teachers, and the good-looking man is her fiancé, Jinwoo’s mood soars again.

____

Mina kindly agrees to show them around and together they enter the little waiting area, now crowded with people in outrageous party outfits streaming in and out. Through the glass wall, Jinwoo sees a dimly lit room packed with people dancing, the music pounding heavily through the open door.

____

‘Leave your stuff here,’ Mina points vaguely at two brightly–coloured sofas with piles of coats on them, ‘otherwise you will not find it in there or someone will spill a drink on it in the dark.’

____

They shed their outer layers as instructed. Dongmin frowns a little, unsure about their overnight bag and Mina catches on quickly.

____

‘You’re staying overnight at Bin’s, right? He mentioned something earlier, I guess he must have meant you. Leave the bag over there then,’ she points at a little alcove. ‘Nobody will take it, don’t worry. When you find him you can take it upstairs; he will give you the keys.’

____

Together they enter the studio. The room is full, Christmas decorations adorning the walls. A Christmas tree on the stage and a glitter ball hanging from the ceiling complete the festive party look.

____

Mina is leading the way, randomly introducing them to people they bump into as they cross the crowded space.

____

Once they have reached couple of tables lined alongside the far wall of the room, Mina stops. 

____

‘Drinks and food,’ she points at a copious amount of snacks and booze amassed in front of them. ‘Please help yourselves. Myungjun should be around here somewhere, I’m sure he’ll find you soon.’

____

’Have fun,’ she flashes them a lovely smile and disappears in the mêlée of people with her fiancé following closely behind.

____

They help themselves to drinks and scan the room. The music is pounding loudly and people are milling around and dancing. The dress code is varied, from sexy dresses to ridiculous Christmas outfits, completely with reindeer’s antlers or Santa’s fake big belly.

____

After couple of minutes, Jinwoo spies Myungjun in the corner of the room and is mesmerised. 

____

His friend is shining. Myungjun was always good-looking but in the two months they haven’t seen each other his looks changed from attractive to utterly radiant.

____

Myungjun is dressed in white from top to toe, looking ethereal, like an angel. It’s not the outfit, however, that makes him stand out from the crowd, finds Jinwoo. It’s his face, glowing with infinite happiness that elevates Myungjun from all others in the room.

____

Standing next to Myungjun, an arm draped casually over his shoulders, is a young man so striking that Jinwoo suddenly has to swallow very hard to compose himself.

____

Is it Bin? 

____

Jinwoo doesn’t know what his best friend’s brand new boyfriend looks like. They have been together for two weeks now, that much he knows from a sparse message his friend reluctantly sent him after Jinwoo’s relentless questions, but unlike his old self, Myungjun hasn’t posted a single shot of them on any social media yet. The silence tells Jinwoo Myungjun is serious.

____

He hopes Bin will make his friend happy.

____

‘Jinwoo!’ Myungjun spots him and starts waving frantically. He grabs the hot boy’s hand and almost drags him across the room.

____

They hug each other, nearly crying. Jinwoo is welling up to see Myungjun so excited, so joyful. ‘It’s so good to see you, bro.’

____

Myungjun slips from his arms and smiles even wider that before.

____

‘Jinwoo, this is Bin.’ 

____

 

____

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Am I slightly mortified because I'm writing about Christmas in February? Possibly, but if you read the myungbin in this series you know the timeline was right from their pow. There, that's my excuse :-)
> 
> Hope you liked it!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mainly myungjin banter this time but I couldn't resist; I love their friendship!

 

The music is loud, noise reverberating through the crowded space; Jinwoo can feel the delicate vibrations of the bass line in the tip of his fingers.

Next to him, Dongmin is humming the tune, his left hand around Jinwoo’s waist, gently tapping the rhythm into his skin.

The dance floor is full but more people are arriving still, introductions are being made, drinks are poured.

Bin and Minhyuk are the impromptu hosts, laughing with everyone, flitting from one guest to another, making sure everybody feels welcome.

Myungjun doesn’t move from Bin’s side. His boyfriend looks like he made a decision not to let Myungjun out of his sight, keeping an arm around him at all times, his wide smile turning hazy every time they look at each other. 

Jinwoo watches them while Dongmin disappears towards the tables to get them more drinks.

_You look so happy, Junnie._

Myungjun looks more than happy; he looks almost drugged – in a good way. They way he leans into Bin when they stop to talk to people, the way he runs his hand up and down Bin’s back, as if wanting to make sure he is still there, real, flesh and blood.

Jinwoo’s heart is filled with happiness. He gazes at Bin pulling to a stop amidst the frenzied activity around them, drawing Myungjun closer to his chest. They way Bin’s fingers slide up Myungjun’s arms and onto his neck, tilting his head slightly before they kiss, makes Jinwoo’s cheeks heat up. He wonders briefly if this is what it feels like to peek through a keyhole into someone’s bedroom and forces himself to look away.

Dongmin returns, two beer bottles in his hands.

‘Thanks, babe,’ the cold liquid slips pleasantly down Jinwoo’s throat, the foam wet on his upper lip. 

Dongmin laughs quietly and leans closer, ‘You have a moustache. Not sure I love the look, it’s making you into an old man.’

Slipping his hand into Jinwoo’ hair, Dongmin’s pulls his head towards him and licks the foam off Jinwoo’s lips.

His bravado shocks Jinjin a little, ‘Min, don’t!’

‘Why?’

The fake innocence in Dongmin’s eyes is not fooling him and he frowns a little.

‘We’ve only been here for an hour and hardly know anybody, Min. You think this is the right place to…?’ He trails off when Dongmin grips his shoulders and turns him around.

‘I don’t think anyone here will mind.’

Right in front of them Bin and Myungjun have stopped kissing but Dongmin points at Jungkook, to whom they have been introduced by Mina maybe five minutes ago. His boyfriend – what was his name, wonders Jinwoo, oh yes, Taehyung – seems busy draping himself over Jungkook and shoving his tongue down his throat. Nobody around bats an eyelid.

‘I like it here,’ laughs Dongmin, leans closer to Jinwoo and, despite being in a room full of people they have never met before, kissed him so hard, it leaves Jinwoo breathless.

Before he has a chance to catch a lungful of air and tell Dongmin that maybe they should slow down, a familiar voice behind him squeals with joy.

‘Jinjiiiiiin!’

He spins around and sees Myungjun, alone, beaming from ear to ear, a smirk in his eyes transforming his radiant face into that of a mischievous elf.

As he approaches he gives them both a satisfied look – Dongmin’s ears are suddenly as red as his own must be, observes Jinwoo – and arches his eyebrows in a way the old carefree Myungjun used to do.

‘I’m glad to see you’re not wasting your time here.’

Myungjun’s hug feels like home. Jinwoo wraps his arms around his best friend and sighs, ‘It’s so nice to see you happy again.’

The smile Myungjun gives him says it all. No more words are needed.

‘Hey,’ Myungjun turns to Dongmin. ‘I hope tonight you’ll have more fun than the last time we met.’

Dongmin laughs. ‘I bet I will. Sorry for the lack of costumes by the way, we forgot our matching elf ears at home.’

Myungjun giggles, a bubbly, light-hearted sound, ‘It’s ok. The whole thing somehow got out of hand when planned, Bin said. Apparently grew bigger and crazier by minute.’

‘You can say that,’ Jinwoo eyes a girl walking towards them dressed like an angel, her massive wings giving her a regal, slightly eerie look. A jolly Santa is following her, trying desperately to gain her attention, but she ignores him, sweeping past them like a creature from another universe, feathers of her wings brushing their faces as she glides past.

Jinwoo notices Myungjun’s empty hands, “Where is your drink?’

‘Not sure,’ Myungjun shrugs happily. ‘Must have left it somewhere.’

‘I’ll get us some soju, ok?’ Jinwoo turns to leave when Dongmin grabs his hand.

‘I’ll go, you two catch up.’ He grabs Jinwoo for a quick, hard kiss before he disappears in the crowd surrounding the table with drinks.

Following Dongmin with his eyes across the room, he watches him grabbing three bottles from the rapidly diminishing stock of booze. 

Forgetting for a moment about his friend standing next to him, Myungjun’s poke in the ribs nearly sends him to the floor.

‘What the hell?’

Myungjun grins, ‘Your Dongmin is positively blooming since you got together. What have you done to him?’

The poke and Myungjun’s smirk annoys him for a split of a second but then Jinwoo remember himself teasing Myungjun mercilessly about all of his hook-ups and he softens. The sparkle in Myungjun’s eyes is so bright, so mischievous, he simply can't stay cross for long.

The routine of being outrageous with each other, the easy banter, the jokes – it feels like coming home. It’s what has been missing from his life for the last two years. Dongmin is everything to him but the friendship with Myungjun goes back a long time and his friend is such an internal part of his life that Jinwoo has sometimes felt like one of his limbs was missing since he moved to Seoul. The band members are like brothers to him but there is only one Myungjun.

He leans closer, grinning, and whispers in a low tone, ‘You could ask what he’s been doing to me.’

The squeal right next to his ear almost costs him his hearing.

‘Tell me,’ the eagerness on Myungjun’s face is endearing but it also makes Jinwoo’s face heat up and he laughs a little cruelly in his friend’s face.

‘That’s none of your business.’

‘Why? I haven’s seen you for ages and last time you were here it was all about me. I want to know all the dirty details.’

‘In your dreams, bro.’

Myungjun’s face changes, his smile growing soft, understanding. ‘Fine, I respect your privacy.’ 

The demure tone doesn’t fool Jinwoo for a second and sure enough the next question proves him right.

'Fine. If I can't have the kinky details, I want statistics. Have you done the deed yet today?’

Jinwoo nearly chokes on the last dreg of his beer, ‘Junnie? Good grief!’

‘What? You haven't? I can give you the keys from upstairs – you are staying here overnight anyway - and you can disappear now and celebrate a little in private,’ he smirks at him suggestively.

‘Jeez, Junnie, what happened to you over the last couple of weeks? You are almost like your old self!’

Myungjun’s expression grows thoughtful, ‘I am and I am not. I guess I’m my old self that is finally happy because I have someone in my life who takes my breath away every day.’ 

Jinwoo gazes at his friend’s face, marvelling at the change in Myungjun’s tone, at the most languid, satisfied smile on his face. 

As if belatedly realising how it sounded, Myungjun blushes crimson, ‘Oh my god, that was probably the cheesiest line I have ever said in my life. It’s true though.’

‘You’re in deep, Junnie. But,’ Jinwoo gasps, ‘how come you have keys from Bin’s place when you’ve been together for like, what, two weeks?’

He expects a frantic denial, more blushing cheeks and stammering words, but none come; Myungjun merely shrugs, a tiny sliver of defiance now creeping into his words. 

‘Silver lining of breaking up before you actually start dating, Junnie. Now that we are finally together, there is no point dancing around each other, we’ve been doing that for a long time.’

Jinjin lets his eyes wander around the room, pondering how much has changed in his friend’s life in the last couple of months, when Myungjun’s satisfied sigh wakes him up from his daydream.

‘Looks like our boyfriends are getting to know each other. We should get them together more often; the sight cleanses my skin.’

Jinwoo is following Myungjun’s gaze and the sight is indeed breathtaking – Bin with his arm around Dongmin’s shoulders, their heads together, engrossed deep in conversation, their laughter genuine, relaxed. If he didn’t know them, they could pass for old friends.

The sting of jealousy comes utterly unexpected. He doesn’t mind gawking girls, by now he has resigned himself to the fact that Dongmin turns heads wherever they go together, but here is a boy who is almost as tall as Dongmin and equally beautiful, and all of a sudden Jinwoo sees himself for what he is, a short, unassuming man, with a face he never considers handsome in the mirror in the morning.

He eyes Myungjun, watching both of their boyfriends get on like house on fire.

‘Do you ever get afraid?’

Myungjun follows his gaze, understanding instantly.

‘No,’ his voice is thoughtful. ‘I mean, we haven’t been together for very long but no. You just have to trust each other, there is no other way. I should know that, of all people.’

His smile directed at Jinwoo is serene, with a tinge of sadness but wise somehow, and he senses that the past months, with all their pain and heartbreak, moulded Myungjun into someone different from the silly, hedonistic persona he used to be, someone more mature.

His musing is interrupted by Minhyuk leaping up onto the stage and grabbing the mic.

Jinwoo tenses a little. He hasn’t exchanged too many words with Minhyuk yet and although the boy seems lovely tonight, Jinwoo can’t relax around him. Not yet.

People are stopping what they’re doing as Minhyuk asks them for attention, voice surprisingly soft, almost shy and Jinwoo finds himself listening to Minhyuk’s news of him and Lisa dating, even if he doesn’t really want to.

There is cheering and clapping, Lisa in the crowd strikes a silly pose, rolling her eyes slightly, as if Minhyuk was a little boy that needs to be indulged in his whims.

Right in front of the stage – like spectators in the first row – Bin and Dongmin pause to listen, hands full of soju bottles.

Jinwoo frowns a little, ‘If my boyfriend was looking at another man like this, I would probably get a little jumpy.’

Bin’s beaming eyes are glued to Minhyuk, his whole body turning like a sunflower towards the stage. Something about it rubs Jinwoo the wrong way, although he is not sure why.

‘How is it going with your arch enemy?’ 

He is not elaborating but Myungjun can read between the lines and laughs a little uncomfortably, ‘Shut up, it’s not that bad. It’s not like I see him every day.’

‘Come on, you and Bin have only been together for two weeks. How can you tell how bad is it going to be?’

Myungjun sighs, ‘Look. Minhyuk is Bin’s best friend and his business partner; I need to accept that. And he seems a nice guy.’

Jinwoo’s eyebrows shoot up sarcastically, ‘Now that’s a new development. What brought that on?’

‘Myungjun’s giggle has a hint of cheek in it, ‘All three of us went out together last Friday.’

‘Jeez, your boyfriend of barely two weeks dragged someone else on your date. Are you sure the two had nothing together at some point? You know, the lingering ex, always there because he is the business partner… Be careful, ok?’

Jinwoo watches Rocky on the stage finishing his speech, eyes on Lisa in the audience who is blushing by now but smiling back adoringly, and his outburst feels a little ridiculous. Then his gaze lingers on Bin whose whole attention is on Rocky as if nothing in the world existed and he feels a pang of envy. How can be Myungjun so calm and sure?

His friend sees him watching and smiles serenely. ‘ I know this looks strange but they are really good friends, nothing else. If anything, the date with Minhyuk made me even more sure. The whole time we were out, Bin was so giggly, annoyingly happy and draped over me that I could see Minhyuk was barely restraining himself from rolling his eyes every ten seconds.’

‘Wow, that must have been a super comfortable night. And that still doesn’t prove anything.’ Jinwoo is not sure why is he even fighting this battle. Maybe because he wants to be absolutely sure his best friend is happy.

‘Oh, but we got him drunk. Drunk Minhyuk is funny,’ Myungjun giggles, more to himself than for Jinwoo’s benefit. ‘And then he showed his true colours. The boy is so soft. He spent an hour waxing about Lisa, how he loved her and how incredible she was.’

‘Wow. Soft Minhyuk. Hard to imagine somehow.’

Myungjun ignores Jinwoo’s snort and carries on, ‘Then he more or less threatened me’ – that’s more like him, thinks Jinwoo – ‘to take good care of Bin and to love him and making sure he dressed warm and slept enough…’

Myungjun pauses and his gaze grows serious, ‘Look, I know I used to rant about him and I still think he doesn’t exactly trust me hundred per cent – but he is just protective, that’s all. Let him be. And when it comes to Bin, I simply know I don’t need to worry about anything. I know you do worry but, seriously, you don’t need to. Let go.’

Out of the corner of his eye Jinwoo watches Minhyuk leaping down from the stage and the crowd going quiet when music from the speakers starts filling the space. Jinwoo doesn’t know the melody, it’s a classical piece, with swelling strings and a melancholy tune, but there is a heavy, sensual undertone to it and everyone gazes at Minhyuk who start moving, his body an embodiment of fluidity and grace.

While his body ebbs and flows, rises and falls, his eyes are locked with Lisa’s who is standing a little apart from everyone, as if people subconsciously gave her space, hands covering her mouth, all sass from her face gone and replaced with something private, something that belongs to Minhyuk, and Minhyuk only.

Gradually, his feet almost not touching the floor, so perfect is the illusion of his lightness, Minhyuk gets close to the love-struck girl and she slides effortlessly into his space, filling in the empty spaces, making them both complete.

Jinwoo stares. Lisa’s and Minhyuk’s bodies intertwine and separate, bend and twist, complementing each other, one carrying on with the movement where the other left it.

The space around slowly fills with people joining them on the dance floor but Jinwoo can't tear his eyes away from the pair, felling ashamed of his feelings towards Minhyuk, of his antagonism, of his judgment. What he sees right in front of him right now is love. It shines from every single one of their movements, every glance, every breath.

No, there is no space for anyone else but Lisa in Minhyuk’s heart; he can see that now. Myungjun is telling the truth, he should stop worrying about Bin.

And in that precise moment, Bin turns at random and looks at Myungjun and his face is transformed by look of such purity, adoration and love that Jinwoo suddenly knows with absolute certainty that Myungjun is right.

 


	5. Chapter 5

 

The hour is late and the dance floor is growing less crowded. People who haven’t left yet have now more space to go wild and the sound of bass-heavy music is filling the room, the air almost sticky with tension, the sound vibrating off sweaty bodies sliding across the space.

Jinwoo is sitting on the floor, watching, his back leaning into Dongmin’s chest. Dongmin’s fingers have slid under his shirt. The touch of the cool fingertips makes Jinwoo shudder with something that mirrors the mood in the room, both the music and his brain heavy with anticipation.

He feels like dancing but knows Dongmin might need a little bit more time. His boyfriend is merely tipsy and to get him on the dance floor tonight he will most likely need to get him drunk.

Jinwoo knows Dongmin thinks he can’t dance. As he once put it when they talked about it, he is reluctant to flaunt his dancing inability in front of strangers; couple that with the fact that tonight, for the first time in his life, Dongmin will be dancing with a man, and Jinwoo knows the booze is probably the way forward.

He offers the rest of his beer to Dongmin who drains it in one go, eyeing the dancers, as if sensing what will be coming soon.

Out of nowhere, Bin and Myungjun appear amongst the bodies on the dance floor.

They have been gone for quite a while, Jinwoo realises with a little smirk, taking in Myungjun’s mussed-up hair and Bin’s lack of shirt, leaving him in a black tank top, but they seem unperturbed, simply sliding into the mass of bodies, joining the others.

Jinwoo watches them as they start to move and his jaw drops.

If dancing Minhyuk is fluidity and grace, Bin on the dance floor is oozing sex. He looks older now, in charge, claiming the space around him, claiming Myungjun who follows, moulding into his moves.

Myungjun can dance, Jinwoo knows it, but he never saw his best friend like this, completely unaware of his surroundings, engrossed in Bin, his movements slick and at ease, letting Bin’s arms swipe over his body, their eyes locked.

Dongmin behind him stiffens, his breath hitches a little and Jinwoo knows he is looking at them too. There are many great dancers here tonight but watching Myungjun and Bin, Jinwoo feels like he has been offered a glance into his friend’s private life, life that he isn’t part of anymore.

He is not sure how he feels about it; it’s not really happiness he feels, more a strange mix of envy and fascination, but he keeps watching nevertheless.

After a while Bin’s moves become less sharp, less controlled, slower, until he stops dancing altogether and simply holds Myungjun pressed against his chest. Jinwoo realises the boy is much more drunk then he thought. While appearing completely in control while dancing, now he seems a little wobbly. Myungjun must have noticed too because he hugs Bin around his waist to steady him and then smiles and pulls him in for a kiss.

As if in a dream, Jinwoo feels Dongmin’s fingers flex on his hipbones for a moment before he gets up, tugging Jinwoo with him.

‘Let’s dance.’

Holding his hand, Dongmin barely makes it to the edge of the crowd, pulling Jinwoo close.

Jinwoo melts in Dongmin’s arms. He doesn’t care about his boyfriend’s dance moves, his sense of rhythm, what counts is how close they are right now, the feel of Dongmin’s body against his, strong and warm, his arms around Jinwoo tight and comforting.

‘God, you are so beautiful,’ Dongmin whispers into his hair.

They sway together, barely trying to dance, barely bothering with the pretence anymore. Jinwoo can feel his brain draining of blood; the world around is spinning a little and he clings onto Dongmin who, judging by his raggedy breathing into Jinwoo’s ear, must feel pretty much the same.

‘Would… would it be rude if we left now?’ Dongmin’s breath hitches a little and Jinwoo’s knees go weak.

‘No, it will be fine,’ he whispers into Dongmin’s neck and feels his cheeks growing hot.  ‘Let’s go find Myungjun and Bin and get the keys.’

Reluctantly, he forces himself to turn away and scan the room.

Bin and Myungjun are easy to spot but it takes Jinwoo a second to clear his brain of the Dongmin-induced fog to understand that asking Bin for his keys right now will not be a straightforward matter.

Bin is crying.

His head is buried in the crook of Myungjun’s neck, big heaving sobs racking his whole body. Myungjun is hugging him gently, whispering in his ear, hands running soothingly up and down his back.

Jinwoo freezes.

_What the hell?_

Instinctively, he moves towards them but Dongmin grabs him mid-stride.

‘Leave them, babe.’ He is smiling but the hand holding his wrist is firm, not letting go, despite Jinwoo’s tugging.

‘But…’ Jinwoo tries desperately to free himself but Dongmin doesn’t budge.

‘Just give them a minute, ok?’

His instinct screams at him to run over to his best friend, to ask what’s going on, to help – but he listens to Dongmin and tries to reign himself in.

The jealousy is bitter-sweet.

_He doesn’t need me. Him and Bin have each other now._

He silently watches Bin sinking to his knees, sobbing, saying something to Myungjun, the words urgent, desperate. His whole is body shaking. Myungjun drops to the floor with him, cradling Bin in his arms, pain clouding his features.

From amongst the dancers, Minhyuk pushes his way through, quick as a flash, and crouches down next to Bin. He eyes Myungjun a little wearily, listening to his slightly panicked words, his expression guarded.

Jinwoo bristles at the sight, ready to jump to Myungjun’s defence, but to his surprise, after a quiet exchange Myungjun’s faces visibly relaxes. Minhyuk smiles at him encouragingly, ruffles Bin’s hair and gets to his feet.

Jinwoo can't stand the uncertainty anymore. He yanks his arm out of Dongmin’s grasp and catches Minhyuk by his sleeve.

‘Is he ok?’

Minhyuk casts him and uncertain look, then recognition flashes in his eyes.

‘Jinwoo, right?’

‘Yes, hi, yes, we met earlier,’ he feels stupid, angry with himself for the incoherent rambling. 'Is Bin alright?’

Minhyuk laughs a little and pats Jinwoo’s arm reassuringly, ‘He is absolutely fine, just a bit wasted. Always gets emotional when drunk.’

‘But, I mean, he looked really upset…’ Jinwoo trails off miserably, unsure whether to accept what sounds like a way too easy an explanation.

‘Well, maybe today a bit more than usual,’ Minhyuk admits grudgingly. ‘After all that happened… and he hasn’t had a drink in months…’ he stops, eyeing Jinwoo as if gauging how much to tell him.

‘How much do you know? I mean, of what happened between Bin and Myungjun?’

‘Pretty much all of it, I guess,’ Jinwoo shrugs, eyes on Myungjun on the floor. Bin has stopped crying by now, his lids are already drooping, and Myungjun cradles him to his chest, ignoring everyone around, as if sitting in the middle of a dance floor at 3am with a rather drunken boyfriend in his arms was the most natural thing in the world.

Minhyuk follows his gaze, assessing the situation one more time, and smiles.

‘If you know everything, then you know that in the last couple of months, before him and Myungjun patched things up, he was having a really shitty time. I guess it all got too much tonight.  But don’t worry, he’ll be fine. He just needs to sleep it off.’

And with a quick pat on Jinwoo’s shoulder, he is off, diving into the crowd on the dance floor.

Left alone, Jinwoo eyes Myungjun a little uncertainly, then crouches down to face him.

‘You ok, Junnie?’

Like a madonna with a child, Myungjun is cradling Bin to his chest and Jinwoo’s question makes him jump a little.

‘I’m ok,’ his eyes slide over Jinwoo and return back to sleeping Bin.

His eyelashes are still wet and, with his mouth slightly open, he reminds Jinwoo of his little nephew. Innocent and painfully young. He is even younger than Dongmin, Jinwoo realises with a shock.

He knows he probably shouldn’t ask but can’t help it, ‘What happened?’

Myungjun’s face contorts in pain, more pieta than madonna with a child now.

‘He… He told me he loved me. That’s all.’

Dongmin behind him draws a soft breath and his hand briefly closes on Jinwoo’s shoulder but he doesn’t say a word.

Meeting Myungjun’s eyes over Bin’s sleeping body, Jinwoo sighs, ‘You know, Junnie, you‘re my best friend. But if you hurt this poor boy one more time because of some quick fuck on a Saturday night - or something like that, you know exactly what I mean - I swear I will come over to Busan and kill you myself.’

Myungjun gasps, ‘Hey! Whose side are you on?’

‘On yours. He is too good for you so you’d better get your shit together ok?’

For a moment it looks like Myungjun is attempting to kill with his murderous look, then he sobers up and slumps heavily, pressing Bin that much closer to his chest.

‘I know,’ he whispers so quietly Jinjin can barely hear him. ‘You’re right. I love him, Jinwoo, I love him so much. I don’t deserve a second chance  and… I can't believe he said yes. That he wanted to start again.’

From behind, Jinwoo feels Dongmin’s body pressing into his own.

‘Babe? Maybe we should let Myungjun be. They’re going to be fine.’

Myungjun’s tears start dripping into Bin’s hair and Jinwoo suddenly feels rotten. Rotten and cruel.

_Why am I lecturing him?_

‘Sorry Junnie,’ he briefly puts his hand over Myungjun’s, ‘I didn’t mean that. I know you have changed.'

‘It’s ok,’ His friends words are soft, quiet, but he doesn’t quite meet Jinwoo’s eyes.

‘Are you going to stay here? On the floor?’

‘No,’ Myungjun shakes his head. ‘Minhyuk is getting a mat from the store room; they use mats for safety with the advanced class, apparently, for some more acrobatic stuff. He can sleep it off in the corner while I help to tidy up; I promised Bin I would.’

Jinwoo looks around and realises the room has emptied somewhat.

Lisa has procured a couple of black bin liners from somewhere and is filling them with paper plates, bowls and empty wrappers that are lying around. Jungkook with his boyfriend are picking up empty bottles.

‘We can help as well,’ Dongmin offers and Jinwoo’s heart swells. Dongmin seems to have blended in seamlessly with everybody tonight, his kind disposition and smiley face making everyone around like him instantly. Jinwoo’s heart is overflowing with love and pride.

Myungjun tears his gaze away from Bin and smiles, the gratitude in his look softening his pained features, 'It’s ok. You go up, have a rest. We’ll be back when Binnie wakes up; or I stay here with him till the morning.’

He reaches in his pocket and hands them a bundle of keys, ‘You use the small one in the lift to get to the top floor, the big one is the key to Bin’s place. Apartment A.’

Out of the corner of his eye Jinwoo sees Minhyuk hauling a big mat through the door and plopping it down in the corner closest to them. He has what seems a woolen blanket thrown over his shoulder.

Myungjun notices the movement and turns, his eyes meeting Minhyuk’s. They exchange a quiet nod and Muyngjun gently strokes Bin’s cheek.

‘Binnie? Wake up,’ Myungjun’s words are so soft, so gentle, it makes Jinwoo’s chest ache. Bin doesn’t react, merely stirs a little, pressing his cheek into Myungjun’s shoulder.

‘Do you need help?’ Jinwoo offers hesitantly.

Myungjun shakes his head a little, ‘No, you go ahead. Sleep as long as you want. Tomorrow, I cook us all a big breakfast and we’ll do something nice. The dance studio will be closed for the day.’

´Thank you.’ Although Dongmin is talking to Myungjun, his arm is tightening around Jinwoo’s waist, pulling him close.

Myungjun gives them a tiny wink, ‘Off you go, you two. Go and test the mattress in the guest room.’ For a moment, the shadow of the old Myungjun resurfaces, teasing and outrageous, and Jinwoo grins back, relieved. 

By now, Dongmin’s fingers are digging into his side and Jinwoo know they both think the same.

They leave eventually, although Jinwoo can't help but glance one more time through the glass wall after they have found their bag underneath a pile of coats.

Bin has managed to stand up and somehow makes it to the mat, curling up in the ball, eyes falling shut almost immediately. Myungjun chats to Minhyuk for a moment, and when the other shakes his head at a question Jinwoo can't hear, Myungjun lies down next to Bin and gathers him in his arms with such infinite tenderness that Jinwoo feels sharp prickling in his eyes and has to look away.

He turns to leave hastily, pulling Dongmin behind him.

 

…………………..

 

In the lift, the silence stretches with a heady, simmering tension until Jinwoo finds it hard to bear. He knows Dongmin feels it too.

Finally the door slides open. The door to the apartment A is right in front of them and Jinwoo is pulling out the keys from his pocket, when a message pings on his phone, the sound echoing in the marble lobby.

Jinwoo checks the screen.

 

_Forgot to tell you no fucking on the living room sofa_

 

‘What?’ He huffs, half in amusement, half in indignation.

‘What is it?’ Dongmin is looking at him, his eyebrows raised.

He hands him the phone without a word.

Dongmin snorts, a delighted sound that lightens Jinwoo’s tense mood in an instant. ‘Is his sofa some antique heirloom from his great-great aunt or something?’

Jinwoo shrugs as the door swings open, ‘Let’s find out.’

The apartment is dark, a narrow corridor stretching in front of them as they step inside. On the left, a door stands open, revealing a small, sparsely furnished room with a big, comfortable-looking double bed and not much else. A couple of fluffy bath towels have been put on top of the navy bedspread.

The guest room.

But Dongmin in front of him bypasses the door and, as if hypnotised, walks further, where the thin passage opens up into a spacious living room.

‘Wow.’

The entire wall in front of them is made of glass, the Seoul skyline right in front of them.

‘Fuck me,’ breathes Jinwoo in awe and stands still, eyes taking in the panorama.

From behind, Dongmin chuckles, hands sliding up his shoulders, his breath so close on Jinwoo’s neck that his lips are almost touching the skin.

‘I can if you want to.’

Jinwoo lets out a shuddery breath, ‘I want to.’

 

……………………..

 

He wakes up with a gasp, feeling slightly disorientated.

There is a blanket covering his body, the feel of unfamiliar fabric odd on naked skin.

‘Hey.’

Dongmin lies next to him, propping himself on one elbow, a soft smile on his face.

Jinwoo groans, body aching, then it hits him.

They are lying on the carpet.

In Bin’s living room.

He feels his ears burn. ‘Oh my god.’

‘You fell asleep straight afterwards,’ Dongmin’s hands pull up the blanket that has slid off his shoulders. “I didn’t want to wake you up. You looked so… peaceful.’

‘And you were here, watching me the whole time?’

Dongmin shrugs, his eyes sliding away, “I guess. Couldn’t sleep.’

Something in his voice, something small, fragile, makes jinjin look up.

Dongmin, his sweet, beautiful, hot-as-hell Dongmin is watching him, but there is a strange vulnerability, almost fear in his gaze.

Jinwoo frowns, ‘You ok, baby?’

‘Do you think I’m boring?’

‘What?’ If he were sitting on a chair, he would fall of it right now. Being on the floor already, Jinwoo just stares, mind reeling.

_What happened?_

Dongmin squirms a little under his gaze, averts his eyes, ‘I mean, look at Myungjun and Bin. Their life is like a drama. I know, it was awful at times but… I was watching them tonight and… there is so much passion between them. And… I feel so boring and cold in comparison. Are you bored with me sometimes, Jinjin? Am I boring you?’

Jinwoo is gobsmacked.

He never thought he would hear a question like this, not from Dongmin who seemed to have come so far, to have left the self-hatred and insecurity behind him, who seemed to have blossomed into a new Dongmin, showered with Jinwoo’s love.

But it seems the old Dongmin is still there somewhere, in the bouts of uncertainty, in the moments of doubt.

Jinwoo reaches over and cups Dongmin’s face, makes him to look up. ‘Baby, never. You are never boring. You are you, and you are perfect. I don’t need drama in my life. Yes, you are right, Myungjun used to have plenty of drama in his, and it brought him nothing but heartbreak. I dont need that. I prefer being happy, plain and simple everyday-happy.’

He smirks, 'You certainly weren’t boring for the last hour or so.’

Dongmin ducks his head and laughs, sounding a little embarrassed, ‘We should probably get up and disappear into the bedroom before they come up. Who knows, Bin might have woken up by now.’

Jinwoo agrees and they scramble up, trying to locate their scattered clothes in the darkness.

Dongmin finds the switch, ‘Watch your eyes.’

The bright light floods the room and after a second of adjusting, they both burst out laughing.

Bin’s enormous sofa is white.

Dongmin is laughing so hard, he has to wipe at his eyes. ‘No wonder Myungjun felt the need to warn us.’

Jinwoo is almost doubling over with hilarity, ‘You think he speaks from… experience?’

‘I bet,’ Dongmin chuckles and grabs him by hand. ‘Let’s go to sleep before they come up and see us naked in the middle of Bin’s living room, making fun of his sofa.’

‘Oh my god,’ Jinwoo rolls his eyes. ‘Do you think he hired someone to furnish his place?’

Dongmin suddenly supresses his giggles and looks around, ‘Don’t think so. I bet the sofa is a cast off from his parents or something like that.’

He might have a point, thinks Jinwoo. Looking around, the open plan space is almost empty, a big flat screen and one tall bookshelf facing the sofa, a small desk with stacks of files piled on it in the corner near the window. There are couple of weights on the floor near a door that probably leads to Bin’s bedroom and a big gym bag next to it.

A small bar separates the living room space from a tiny kitchen corner, which houses the barest of collections of utensils.

The space feels spartan. Not neglected or untidy, there is no more mess than one would expect, but it strikes Jinwoo for the first time that although they might be standing in a millionaire’s pad, it doesn’t feel like one.

There is no expensive art surrounding them; instead, photos of Bin, Minhyuk and the other teachers smile at them from the walls.

The bookshelf houses an eclectic selection of books and a collection of trinkets, clearly brought from holidays. Jinwoo recognises one of Myungjun’s sketches, propped against one row of books and it almost makes him well up.

Dongmin picks the blanket from the floor, folds it and slings it gently over an old chair in front of the TV, the navy cover worn slightly, but looking as a much-loved companion.

‘Let’s go to bed,’ he says quietly.

As they settle under the blankets in the guest room, Jinwoo sighs as he snuggles against the warmth of Dongmin’s chest.

‘I hope Myungjun will make Bin happy. He seems like a really sweet guy.’

Dongmin is carding through Jinwoo’s hair, ‘I hope I can make _you_ happy, Jinjin.’

Jinwoo presses his cheek against Dongmin's heartbeat, ‘You have, baby, you already have.’

 

……………………

 

The steady hum of the audience behind the curtain is noticeable even backstage; Jinwoo has peaked out barely five minutes ago and the glimpse of the venue slowly filling up, people milling around and finding their seats, made his insides twist. He is not sure whether there is more fear or excitement in the chaotic mix of emotions in the pit of his stomach but he recognises it from all their performances before, the same thrill, only amplified by tenfold this time by the size of the venue, the gravity of the moment; this is their make-or-break night.

On stage the tech people are finishing, Patrick exchanging the last couple of words with the local crew before heading to his mixer halfway down the pit.

Jinwoo looks for Dongmin and finds him in their dressing room, scanning through his meticulously prepared notes, making sure nothing has been forgotten.

Dongmin lifts his head at the sound of the creaking door and smiles at him through the three-part mirror. He closes the door, sneaks his arms around Dongmin’s waist and kisses his neck. ‘I want you to be in the audience tonight.’

Dongmin frowns a little, eyeing him through the mirror. ‘But what if something happens and you guys need me backstage?’

‘Nothing will happen. We are all ready, the tech crew is perfect, Patrick spoke to them already, you spoke to them; nothing will happen.' 

Dongmin eyes him worriedly, ‘This is your first big concert; you have worked really hard to make it happen. I want everything to go well..’

‘So stay for the first song or two, to see if all goes smoothly, then head for the audience. You don’t need to be far away, I just want you to be there, to cheer me on.’

Dongmin relents, smiles.

‘Ok. I’ll be there.’

‘Could you do me a favour though?

‘Sure, what?

'Can you stay on the left side so I know where to look for you?

It’s not the only reason for him asking but Dongmin does not need to know that.

Dongmin smiles at him in the reflection and leans back into him. “Ok, I’ll be there after the first song.’

Jinwoo brushes his fingers for a moment, ‘I’ll find you.’

 

………………….

 

And there he is, the stage lights blinding him and sweat pouring down his face, but nothing matters, nothing is more important than to find Dongmin in the crowd.

Patrick has dimmed the lights for his song, like they had discussed before, and suddenly the faces in the crowd are distinguishable, he can see everybody, their faces jumping out at him from the darkness.

There he is.

Dongmin is there, at the very end of the first row, his beautiful face upturned a little, his eyes on Jinwoo.

The smile on Dongmin’s smile is a small one but it belongs to him. It belongs to Jinwoo.

The see of faces in front of him blends into one, the eager, breathless girls trying to catch his eye, smiling desperately in hope he will look at them. His gaze sweeps over them, a light smile on his lips that belongs to all and no one.

He crosses the stage and sits at the piano.

‘This song is for someone very important to me.’

There is a collective hush in the crowd but Jinwoo doesn’t care. His gaze searches for Dongmin and he finds him again. It’s easy to spot him from here; the tech crew had positioned the piano a little diagonally so he can see at least some of the audience, hence him wanting Dongmin to be in a particular place, without having to tell him the real reason behind his request.

The intro makes the crowd go quiet, the simplicity of the melody silencing them.

The see of enraptured faces, all hoping he will be singing for them, that the song will be just for them, but Jinwoo ignores everybody, looking for that one person in the crowd that matters the most.

His eyes find Dongmin’s again.

I'm playing for you.

 

………………..

 

I saw you in the crowd today

My guitar and I we’re watching your face

You are the melody haunting me in my sleep

The tune in my head that won’t stop playing

 

Your rhythm is in my veins

The staccato of your laugh in the sunshine

Lazy rubato between the sheets in the morning

The crescendo of your breath in the night

 

My fingers are bleeding but I’m still playing

I’m playing music that’s you

 

You are my melody

If I stop you might disappear

I keep playing, da capo al fine

Let there be no end please

 

My fingers are bleeding but I’m still playing

I’m playing music that’s you.

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
